Revel Rockies - July 19, 2015

You could probably call this the race that almost wasn't. In fact, for many half marathoners, this race actually wasn't, but not for me. The race was officially cancelled about 10 minutes before the half was supposed to start, but I ran it anyway... Let me explain...

A couple of years ago, I met an ultra runner whom I greatly admire. She's strong, she's tough. She's much faster than me, but I'm not sure she would be called elite. She is absolutely elite in my eyes, but that's because she's such a running beast. On top of that, she's supportive... even for a turtle like me. When I heard about the Revel Rockies race near her home in Denver Colorado, I asked if I could plan a trip to visit. And soon, another friend of mine decided to make the trip to Colorado with me to also run the race.

Having lived in Florida for the past 10 years, and having had asthma for the greater part of my life, and having heard horror stories about altitude and having experienced altitude issues myself while in Utah last summer, I knew that I needed to plan accordingly. I didn't have a lot of time, but the plan was to fly to Denver on Thursday, accompany my 2 friends to Aspen and spectate the Aspen Marathon, thus allowing time to acclimate. Then one Sunday, we would meet up with another friend flying in from California, and we would run the Revel Rockies Race.

The best laid plans...

Unfortunately, although packet pickup was smooth and seamless, race morning was an absolute disaster. The race was point to point starting at the top of a canyon, so we had to meet busses early in the morning to take us from parking to the starting line. My friend from Colorado was running the full marathon so she had to meet her bus earlier than the rest of us, so we arrived at the parking lot super early. We waited in the car after she left to catch her bus, then we saw a line starting to form for the half marathon buses. It was bitter cold, but we donned our plastic bags and went to stand in line for the buses.

During the next hour or so, I only saw a total of 5 buses, and they were all for marathoners. We waited and waited. We knew it was about a 20-30 minute drive to the starting line and we all started to get antsy when we knew that start time was fast approaching and the buses still never came. It was like Waiting for Godot. about 15 minutes before the race was scheduled to start, one of the volunteers came to tell us that they were trying to figure out the game plan because the buses never came, and they would update us. Less than 2 minutes later, we watched in shock as we saw all of the people in front of us scatter and start running back to their cars. We looked around confused for a few minutes, unsure of what was happening and meandered to where the front of the line had been. And on the way, my Florida friend learned through a post on the event organizer's facebook page that the half marathon had been cancelled.

I was in shock. I think had I not been so cold and tired, I might have been more upset, but at first, I just stood there dumbly. Until the frustration set in. I had spent a LOT of money on airfare, and expenses. I had taken unpaid time off of work. I had acclimated (although not well because I really wasn't feeling well). I didn't want to accept cancelled as an answer.

I'm not officially a member of the 50 state half marathon club yet (though I plan to be before the end of the year), but they have some guidelines for what counts as a race. As a member of half fanatics, there are other guidelines. My friends and I quickly brainstormed what we would have to do in order to be able to still run a half marathon and have it count for both clubs. We tried to rope others to drive with us to what should have been the start of the race, and run it with us anyway... But they wouldn't.

Eventually, we learned that if we could get ourselves to what should have been the start line within the next hour, we could still run, although we still didn't know whether our times would count, whether we would be entitled to course support, and whether we would get medals at the finish. We didn't know whether others were running the course also, so we didn't know if there would be the required 20 starters that the half marathon clubs require. But we were willing to gamble.

We piled into the rental car and drove to the start line, leaving our car in a frozen yogurt stand parking lot. We would worry about the logistics of retrieving it later. We looked what should have been the starting line and saw that there were others with the same idea.

We jumped on the course and started running.

My race was off from the start. As a back of the packer, I knew that I might be without other half marathoners for most of the course anyway, but with no real pack, I was literally on my own from the word go. Although there was a bit of a crowd (the same logistics that cancelled the half marathon messed up the full marathon and the crowd was really small), I never actually felt like I was running a half marathon.

Instead, I was left feeling like I was doing a 13.1 mile training run, crashing the course of the full marathon. The course was gorgeous, but I was too sick and dizzy from the altitude to really enjoy it to the fullest. Other runners would pass me and realize that I was a half marathoner and ask what had happened, but I didn't really know. All I knew was that I was on my own... and it was tough.

I saw a lot of people struggling out there. After the sun came up, it went from bone-chilling cold to brutally hot, and a lot of people were unprepared. I think a lot of people also underestimated the altitude. I know I certainly did.

Although I had allowed myself to acclimate, I stupidly thought that I might even PR this race because it was almost entirely downhill and was billed as a really fast course because of the altitude decline... but instead, it was the opposite. By mile 9, I was nursing a really ferocious headache. By 10, I was dizzy and nauseous. By 11, I felt like a jackhammer was splitting my skull open. By 12, I was delirious. I sat down on a guardrail to catch my breath and contemplated the race. I wanted to finish more than anything. But I also knew that I was sick. I took a selfie and realized that my lips were turning blue.

I quickly did a little math in my head. I'm no mathematician, and considering how out of it I was, I'm not sure how accurrate this was, but I remember thinking I had at least another hour for the course to remain open (if I was allowed to finish the race considering that technically I was a bandit on a cancelled half marathon). I weighed my options. If I quit due to the altitude (which would have been a respectable quit in retrospect), I would have to spend all that money again. I would have to acclimate to the altitude again. I would have to do the entire race again... and it just wasn't worth it.

So I sucked it up. I finished, but that last mile took me a ridiculously long time... almost a half hour to be exact. The course was kind of jacked in that it ran a little long, and the final stretch was back uphill after a steep and steady decline through the canyon. That seemed a little sneaky to me, but who I was I to complain.

I crossed the finishline, and immediately sought out medical. I've never seen a setup like this before. Medical was not immediately at the finishline, you had to go over a guardrail and down a little hill to get to them... and I didn't see them immediately and started to panic... which of course only heightened my problems. Another runner saw that I was in distress and escorted me to medical. Where I promptly took a breathing treatment and sat for awhile on oxygen. I think that I might suggest that should this race series return to Colorado they revisit their setup for finishline. food trucks do not need to be immediately on top of the finishline, medical DOES.

In the end, although it was a rocky start, and although I never really felt like I got the experience I was looking for, it was a state that I finished. Not every race can be excellent and run smoothly... But I finished, and that's all that counts. There will be other races on other days.

Gun = 4:52:28
Chip = 3:48:31
Pace = 17:26/mile

Miami Half Marathon - January 25, 2015

For the past 2 years, I have done the Miami Half Marathon. I have to say that this race really ranks up there in my top favorite race courses, and it isn't just because it feels like it is right in my backyard. I love the festivities, I love that there are 35k+ runners at the event (yet it never feels anywhere near that crowded, and certainly doesn't feel as crowded as Disney races which boast the same attendance). And while the Miami Half Marathon is one of my favorite races, we seem to have a love/hate relationship.

In 2013, Miami was my second ever half marathon, it was a week after my first half marathon and would qualify me for half fanatics. I didn't eat a banana before the race, and around mile 10, I got a calf cramp that sent me straight to the ground and almost put me out of commission for the duration of the race. But I still finished with a smile on my face.

In 2014, Miami was my 17th half marathon. I walked almost the entire race because I was in the midst of the horrible foot issue that dominated the greater part of 2 years. It rained on my proverbial parade (and the actual race), and at mile 11, due to a very late start for all corrals, I happened to get stuck behind a drawbridge that was in the upright position for 7-8 minutes. I barely finished that race because my muscles cooled down too much and I could not get motivated again for the last 2 miles. Although they ran out of finisher medals, I finished the race with a huge smile on my face, and vowed to be back.

Obligatory pre-race picture with Seth

In 2015, I planned to go back to this race and finally complete Miami without complications. Complications seem to be the story of my life, so I knew that the likelihood of this happening would be slim to none, but I wanted to go and give it my best.

The morning of the race was cold, but that's really to be expected for that specific race. I started the race with space blankets on to keep me warm, but the first 3/4 of a mile or so through downtown before hitting the MacArthur Causeway had me sweating. I stripped my blanket and immediately regretted it as I climbed the causeway. The wind was whipping across the bridge, and I quickly caught a chill. Thankfully, others had already stripped off layers of clothing so I could grab a sweater (which I could strip again later and would still be donated). As soon as I put on the extra sweater, I felt my tension dissipating and my muscles loosening up. I knew that this was going to be a good race and by the time I reached Miami Beach at mile 4, I knew that I was on track to have one of my best half marathon runs to date.

With Seth, just after finishing

I try not to count my chickens before they hatch during a race, but I couldn't help but get excited when I was looking down at my GPS and realizing that I was pacing faster than I ever had before. I'm no math guru, but when I finally figured out my projected pace, I realized that by mile 6 I was on pace to PR by close to 10 minutes. I ran into my friend Adam who is a coach for the local team in training chapter, and even he recognized how much faster than normal I was pacing. With every step, I tried to reign in the excitement, but I couldn't help myself. I felt myself picking up pace even more, pushing each stride. I felt my lungs burning and my muscles screaming.

And obviously, that leads me to the part right before mile marker 8, where I got started with horrible exercise induced abdominal cramping. The cramping was so bad that no amount of lamaze style recovery breathing was going to get them to subside. I was doubled over in pain at one point, and Adam showed up again out of nowhere checking in on me. I felt like a fool. I had no real reason to push it that hard. I was already running faster than normal, I was already on track... but my brain wouldn't let me accept good enough with where I was at... I forced this on myself by pushing further and faster and harder than normal.

It took me just over a mile of walking (and stopping every 50 yards or so) to get the cramping to subside. but by the time that it did, my dream of a PR was out the window. My mood was shot. I couldn't motivate myself to run anymore, and wound up finishing at a nice brisk walking pace. But I finished.

This was half marathon #33, and I finished with a smile on my face.

And hey, if I want to shoot for a PR at Miami again, there's always next year!

Gun - 4:05:05
Chip - 3:29:11
OA - 12549/13,155
Sex - 6,303/6,760
AG 1,047/1,081

Hey Amy, how did that challenge go?

Last week, I excitedly wrote about a 1 week challenge where I allowed my friends on facebook to like my post and the total number of likes would determine my weekly mileage.

It was foolish, I know. But at the same time, I was excited to have a challenge to really push for, a reason to go out there and push my limits and really do something that would remind me of how far I've come and how strong I have gotten over the past 2 years.

I don't want to say that I wasn't entirely freaked out by the idea of logging 64 miles, but I made a commitment to go out there and give it the old college try. For me that included the senior year, the 4 years of undergraduate, the 2 years of graduate, and the almost 3 years (so far) of ph.d. work. That's a lot of college try. And that's what I wanted to put into this challenge.

But I came up short. Really, really ridiculously short.

I managed 6.77 miles on day 1 but then had to call it quits due to a severe electrical storm that came through.

On day 2, I broke it up and put in 6.5 miles in the morning. Then in the evening I did another 5.11 miles.

And that's where it all kind of fell apart. About 3 miles into the second workout on day 2, I started having the most horrid back spasms that I have had in about 10 years. These were leaving me barely able to catch my breath, and unable to stand up straight.

I took the next day off, and on day 4, I managed another 7.38 miles. I kept feeling like I was winded and out of breath. I blamed it on the heat and humidity, I soldiered on, but I couldn't keep going. The following day, the spasms were back in full force.

It was the 4th of July and I couldn't get out of bed. I spent the entire 3 day weekend either on the bed or the couch, alternating between barely able to catch my breath, staving off dizzy spells, and melting into a sobbing mess from tweaks here and there in my back.

And before I knew it, the 7 day challenge was done. I spent most of the week in pain and laid up. I managed to get in 25.76 miles, and I should feel proud of that. Unfortunately I'm still trying to convince myself that 25.76 miles in a week is nothing to turn my nose up at. Instead of being proud of what I accomplished, I keep thinking about the 38.24 miles that I didn't manage to log during the week.

It leaves me feeling like a failure.

What is wrong with me?

Beach Beast - June 14, 2014

I've been dragging my feet on writing this race recap. I really like to find the silver lining in events and give people the benefit of the doubt, but no matter how I cut it, this event was a flop.

Here's the thing, when Beach Beast did their first event out in Tampa last summer, I had some friends who participated in it and absolutely loved it. They were not big into OCRs or Mudruns, they were more Crossfit type of people. They enjoyed the run, they gave the event and the promoter rave reviews, and all was fine and dandy. So we signed up for it last year.

If you recall, last years event was not so great. I was very generous in my race recap from that event but the reality was that all of the obstacles were cramped into the very beginning of the event or the very end of the course, there was no water to be found despite being on the beach in Ft. Lauderdale in early April, the obstacles were falling apart and posed a hazard to many people as they broke down from all the foot traffic, and it was just kind of a hot mess. Trying to find a silver lining, I believed the promoter when he claimed that a number of the problems came from a concert that was about to be set up at the same location which had their equipment delivered ahead of time. I had no reason to not believe them.

That being said, I hadn't planned to run another one of their events. And I wouldn't have, except that husbeast made a charitable donation to an organization late last summer and in return we got two complementary entries to this years Miami Beach Beast Event. I knew not to expect much, but my hopes were a little higher than they should have been because we were reassured that this year's event would be in a better location meaning we would have better support.

And of course, although my hopes weren't all that high, the let down was still immense. After last year's mess up, I would have thought that they had learned some lessons and would right some of their wrongs. But wishful thinking, I guess. Afterall, eventhough last year neither mine nor my husband's timing chips worked, at least this year, we would have the ability to be timed on a course, right?

Wrong. No timing chips this year, essentially making it a 5K fun run (except it wasn't really 5K either, but I'm getting ahead of myself) But that's ok, it could have still been a gorgeous event at the beach, in an absolutely gorgeous location.

Wrong again. The new venue was the Historic Virginia Key Park, which is an absolutely gorgeous location that many runners, bikers, and triathletes adore so I had high hopes for at least that component of the event. Yet the event was held primarily in dirt parking lots and along an area of the bay which had less beach and more seaweed than anyone could ever imagine. For an event that claims to be a "beach run" It would have been nice to be on a beach area for more than maybe a 10th of a mile. This area of coastline was also about a "beach-ish" strip that was probably no more than 5 feet wide and covered with seaweed and other debris, so not much for beach. I have to say that I got far more sand on me while weaving back and forth through a dirt parking lot. Yes, you read that right... But once more for good measure:

Weaving. Back. And. Forth. Through. A. Dirt. Parking. Lot.

Seriously, you have a beautiful park that you could run the course through yet you put flags out on a dirt lot to weave back and forth through to increase the overall distance to a 5K? Well nice try, but the distance wasn't even close to a 5K. But I guess that can be overlooked, because there were obstacles right? Yeah, lets talk about that.

They used a different builder for the obstacles this year than last year, so they were slightly different. I found the obstacles last year to be far more challenging, though a few of them managed to break from the weight of people jumping on them repeatedly. There were less obstacles, and because I am not a huge fan of getting splinters in my butt, I am not about to climb a wall and slide down a large piece of plywood to get to the other side. I guess that could have been easily done by other people, but being the Klutz that I am, I just went around. So that left me with a sand crawl that was less than 15 feet long, a knee-up area which barely required me to pick my feet up off the ground, a large laddered wall that I actually liked but didn't find challenging at all (other than the fact that it was fairly tall and I feared falling), and a couple other obstacles that clearly made a lasting impression because I can't remember them to save my life.

I walked the whole event, which I hadn't planned on doing, but decided was in my best interest after we arrived to find out that there was not only no water anywhere on the course, but no water at the finish line either. Sure they had Celsius as a sponsor and they were out there giving away free energy fizzy drinks, but this is NOT a replacement for water. HELLO, this is JUNE in SOUTH FLORIDA. the temperature was hovering well over 90 degrees, and the humidity was up in the high 80s percentage wise.

SO. NOT. SAFE.

You know what else isn't safe?

Doing a race in the sun and the heat of South Florida without providing water, and NOT having a medical team on site. I'm always super attuned to where medical is at events, that's just the safe practice... and not once did I see a medical tent, an ambulance or any representative from the Miami Dade Fire Rescue.

No excuse.

Not impressed. And wont be making the same mistake again. Promise. NEVER AGAIN.

The promoter Eric F. Peer has not been available for comment through the facebook event for this race. Maybe he's still hanging out with the medical team and the water?

But I did get this great picture with my friends Meredith and Khalimah, so that's a plus, right?

Sidelined again and a yearly wrap up

It is a couple days before Christmas, which means, less than a week until the year of the half marathons ends. I set many goals. The first being to run a half marathon last January. From there, I set a goal of running 13 half marathons this year, because how cool would it be to run 13 races of a 13.1 distance in 2013?

And now that the year is up, although I backed out of the last 2 half marathons that I had purchased entry into for December, I can see that this year has been a successful first full year as a runner.

Not only did I meet and surpass my goal of 13 half marathons by completing SIXTEEN of them (in SIX different states, no less), I also was able to complete ONE 10-miler race, SEVEN obstacle course races at various distances, and ONE 5K.

That's HUGE!

But my heart still breaks when I think about having to withdraw from the last two races of this season (the Palm Beaches Half Marathon, and the Live Ultimate South Beach Half Marathon). I feel like a failure for not starting those races because I have always reminded myself during races that dead last place is better than not finishing, which is better than not even starting. In my mind, not even starting is one of the worst things that I could possibly do as a runner. I'm ok with other people not starting races, but for me, that is just unacceptable.

Even though I have good reason, and logically I know it was a wise decision (something I probably should have considered before December), I struggle with feeling like a failure.

Where we left off in this blog, I was talking about the Space Coast half marathon, and the incredible pain I felt in my right foot. Up until that point, I had been seeing an orthopedic specialist to treat my foot and closely following his orders. I wore a boot. I stayed off of it when he told me to. I took my medications religiously. I got back into walking and then running just like he had suggested. And I believed him.

I returned to the doctor multiple times for follow-ups, and to see if I was a candidate for cortisone shots (which he told me wouldn't be useful). And finally, back in early November, I accepted what he said, and became resigned to the fact that he thought that the swelling had gone down and this was as good as it would get and I was just in pain from trying to get back out there and on it again.

But I still noticed things. Like the fact that when I took photos of my feet, I could clearly see that the swelling was not gone. The fact that I couldn't weight-bear for much more than a few minutes without needing to sit. The fact that I hurt WAY more as the day progressed, rather than hurting more in the morning (as is customary with residual plantar fasciitis as he claimed I had). And the fact that at random times I was still getting shooting pains through both my heel and the outside of my ankle.

I wanted SO badly to be fixed, that I believed everything I was told. Even when people near and dear to me pushed me to get a second opinion. Part of that (I am sure) was pure stubbornness... but the larger part of that was that I was trusting my doctor. He, after all, is an expert. He's supposed to know things. We are supposed to trust our doctors.

But after Space Coast, I knew that I needed to do something different. Whereas I had been feeling as if I had been getting better for awhile, the day before the half marathon, I just couldn't deny that I was actually getting worse. I had spent so much time putting on a happy face, trying to be strong (like the beast that I really wanted to be), and hiding what was really going on... and finally it was too much to hide. Husbeast noticed. Two of my dear running friends noticed. And they staged (what I can only describe as) and intervention. It was time for a second opinion. With a doctor that specializes in feet.

I went for the appt, he did xrays and an ultrasound, and he immediately put me in a much larger and much more archaically torturous boot. I was under strict orders to stay off of it until I could get a new MRI.

The MRI and followup were the next week, and because my dad was in town (and had also been pushing for me to get a second opinion), like I was a six year old with a sore throat, he marched me right into the appt, and waited for the verdict (poised to take notes to relay back to Husbeast).

And whereas there had been a laundry list of problems evident on the last MRI, the good news was that the list was shorter... Only TWO main problems.

The sheaths around the fascia on the inside of my heel were still incredibly inflamed, and there is a huge pocket of inflammation in the outside of my ankle between the bones. Two separate, but perhaps related injuries.

The good news is, that with the assistance of the ultrasound machine, he could give me the cortisone injections that I had so desperately wanted months ago. This was absolutely a nightmare, and I am getting flashbacks just thinking of it so I wont go there in this post, but I got the shots.

And then I went right back into the boot. And have been ordered to stay off of it until my followup on December 27th. I asked if he thought I would be able to be out of the boot by the end of the month because I had some training to get in before my first full marathon in January. He smiled sadly at me and said that he can't know until we get there. But he said that while his body language clearly told me no.

So there we have it. Why I have been so sad the past few weeks. Not only have I been struggling with this injury while being confined to the couch or a chair, but I have been fighting my own demons. I had a goal to do this full marathon, and now I can't. Even when I was mediocre about WANTING to do this race, I had a goal, and I don't take that lightly. What's more, I roped a dear friend into doing it with me when she clearly didn't want to do it in the first place. And now I can't. It's not even that I want to do it. But I made a commitment to her. And I don't take commitments lightly.

So there you have it. Me, not just feeling like a failure to myself, but what's worse, feeling like I have let down other people in the process too. I don't share that because I need a pep talk or anything. I don't need people to lift me up and make me feel better. I feel like crap. And I deserve to feel like crap.

The silver lining to it all though, is that if I don't do the marathon, that gives me more time to heal, which will allow me to do the next big thing. Another 5 races in 5 days in 5 states. Don't worry though, I have time to heal, that isn't for months and months yet. And when I'm back in the game, I will be better than ever. I've come so far already in this journey, I can get my head (AND my body) back in the game. Just looking at my wrist tells me so.
 

Foot Update, and a Secret About Pennies

Just a quick update one where I am at with my foot... because it seems that everyone keeps asking me what the verdict is. 

I'm still seeing the orthopedic for the ongoing heel pain. I am not wearing my boot anymore because over time it started to bother my knee and my back... but I am still trying to limit my steps. I've been taking it easy since the Ft. Lauderdale 13.1 race... it wasn't hurting so much during the race, but I think that 3 miles back to the car really did a number on me. I was in severe pain by the time Seth and I got to our post race lunch... but the margaritas helped take the edge off.

Anyway, the swelling came back. Thankfully not with a vengeance like putting a marshmallow in a microwave... but still bad enough I couldn't put a shoe on comfortably for a few days... And with swelling and pain, I know that I must take a few extra days of rest. Thankfully, I have a few weeks between races, so I have that luxury.

And in the meantime, it was a good time to see the orthopedic again... specifically to ask about cortisone shots. Which it turns out, he didn't want to do. He said that because the majority of the swelling is from the sheath of a tendon and not the tendon itself, the cortisone would be hit or miss. A best case scenario with the cortisone would be 4 weeks off my feet completely for little result. But the likelihood of that would be slim... and we know I don't take well to forced rest.

The more likely outcome of shots could be disaster. As he explained, literature shows that people who have cortisone for sheath issues in the heel wind up having exacerbated issues long term and it can lead to breakdown in the sheath. 

So what now? The only real prescription is rest. But he knows that wont work for me either... remember that running is my one real way to relax myself these days... and it is better for me to relax my brain than relax my foot in the long term.

He continued with meloxicam daily, he re-prescribed a painkilling and anti-inflammatory cream (I've had it before and I REALLY like the idea of this because it is basically reason for me to get foot massages from Scrubby twice a day), and stressed the need for rest days. Knowing that I have a marathon goal (and another goal which you need to keep reading to find out about), he said do my long training runs during the weekend as scheduled but be very careful about the surfaces I am on... NO SAND and try to avoid anything other than asphalt. Apparently I am on doctors orders to also limit my mileage mid week (but I can bike to keep up my cardio). He also said I should wear my Hoka One One shoes on long runs (excuse to get another pair? I think so). I am not allowed to drive long distances (because the spot you rest your heel is where I have the problems), I may need to continue to wear my boot at the stadium, and I shouldn't go above 20 miles in my marathon training. Essentially the remedy is rest, rest, and more rest.

I'll be bringing the pennies!

And I'm ok with that. What I wasn't ok with was the idea that he had to palpate my whole heel area to find exactly where the problems are. And since doing that, the swelling has gone back up and the pain has increased exponentially.

And with all that being said, and knowing where I am going to be headed now in terms of recovery... I want to announce that I will not be adding any more races to my race schedule for the rest of the season so that I have plenty of time to recover from the races that I already have planned from now until March... I am going to need that time to recover...

Because this morning, I dropped my registration in the mail for the Riverboat Series by Mainly Marathons... In which I will be attempting another 5 half marathons in 5 states in 5 days. And yes, I will be bringing plenty of pennies.

Singer Island Half Marathon - April 27, 2013

I have been avoiding writing about the Singer Island Half Marathon on April 27th for a number of reasons.

1) it was an awful experience.
2) it was a personal worst for me, and almost led to a DNF (did not finish), and probably should have been a DNS (did not start), if I am honest with myself looking back.
3) I was so messed up during this race, I don't remember great big portions of it (like the fact that my running partners had to remind me multiple times how gorgeous the course and the weather was).
4) I was so messed up after the race that I was sad, self-depreciating, and really would have rather forgotten.

But in the end, I write today because there are some take-aways from this experience that I could put to use next time to ensure that I never had to relive another experience quite so bad again.

The night before this race, I felt significantly under-prepared for my final half of the spring season. I posted to facebook that I felt under-trained, and I suppose I should have. I had just come off of a 5 day trip to Spokane, Washington and had only managed 2 training runs and a 5K race between my prior half marathon (which was a PR), and this one. What's more, I had just decided to start eating differently than I had been in recently (I will be posting a separate entry about this later, just note that while I felt like I had a ton of energy on a day-to-day basis, I wasn't sure how to properly fuel for this race). Lastly, the Singer Island half was fairly far from home and required an overnight trip. Brina graciously offered me her spare bedroom, but I have been known to under-hydrate when I am not at home... something that I am sure contributed to the problems I had during the race.

I woke up early the morning of the race, and donned the great "we are Boston" tribute shirt that Brina, Juanita and I had made up to run this race in tribute to the victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. I wasn't hungry (as I hadn't been since starting to eat differently), I choked down a banana but couldn't stomach even the thought of my usual pre-race bagel. Instead Brina made me a piece of whole grain toast with peanut butter. Mistake number 1.

Before leaving the house, I heard the sprinklers outside, and thought it was raining. I was half hoping, that it was raining so we could back out of this race. My heart just wasn't into it, and I recognized that... but I also knew I was running for Boston. So I sucked it up, and we were out the door.

The race had a later start time than I am used to, so the sun was already on its way up when we started. As this was the last run for us for the season, Juanita chose to run at my pace (along with Brina), with the goal that they might be able to push me to a new PR (hoping to break the 3:15 mark so I could prove my time for Disney and move up a corral in my Marathon in January). It definitely didn't happen that way, but that was the plan.

The course was straightforward (so it seemed) with the first mile and a half being an out and back over the Singer Island Bridge that crosses the intracoastal, then north until we hit approximately 6 miles, then return to the bridge, over and back again, then an additional couple of miles through a cute neighborhood at the end. But seeming fairly straightforward and being fairly straightforward are two totally different things. And something was really off for me.

Our game plan was to run intervals to the base of the bridge, walk up the bridge, run down (letting gravity do the work, repeat on the return trip, then run intervals until we hit the bridge for our second out and back. By the time we hit the top of the bridge the first time, I was having trouble catching my breath. I took double doses of my inhaler, but it wasn't seeming to work. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was worried. We ran down the reverse side, then began the ascent again. Once again, I was winded, light-headed and my chest hurt. We tried to let gravity work coming off the bridge on the return trip, but I couldn't catch my breath.

We started to walk. I hadn't even hit mile 2 and I had to give up entirely on running, meaning we walked the next 11 miles. During that time, I never caught my breath. I never stopped being dizzy. My heart never stopped beating out of my chest. I was sweating profusely. And I was getting angry. My running partners were talking about how beautiful a day it was and how they wanted to go faster because they weren't even breaking a sweat and I was drenched.

I was really gassy and my stomach also really hurt. By mile 6, I was nauseous. Whereas normally I am chatty when I am on walking (either on intervals or in general), I found myself getting very quiet and closed off. And I felt the ailments mounting.

By mile 7, I was throwing up... although instead of dry heaves, it was purely liquid coming up. Waves and waves and waves of liquid. Yuck. So I tried to push more fluids and more electrolytes (in the form of nuun tabs in the water).

By mile 8, I was beginning to have severe cramping in my calves. Every step was excruciating. We were exponentially losing speed, and I was afraid we wouldn't finish in the 4 hour time limit. I've never taken over 3:36 to finish a half, but I was beginning to worry. And I worried that I was irritating my partners. I begged them to go along and leave me behind. At least they should still get good times...

But they wouldn't leave me. And at mile 9, while passing some park benches, I don't know what came over me. I just sat my sorry butt down. I called Brina and Juanita back to me and told them to go along without me, that I was ok with taking a DNF.

Seriously I said that. I said I was ok with not finishing and having someone just come and get me. Who does that?

And what was worse was that (and I had to be told about this later because I didn't actually remember it), while I was sitting there, I told Brina that I had been hoping it would rain so that we could stay at her house and hang out on the couch eating ice-cream all day. OK, what kind of alien life form was invading my body???

After going around and around about how I was giving up, Brina and Juanita got fierce with me and reminded me that I was wearing a Boston shirt, and the pain I was dealing with was nothing compared to what the bombing victims were dealing with in the hospitals. Well, when you put it that way... even I saw the hypocrisy in my giving up at that point.

So I got up and forced my body to keep going. By the time we hit the bridge the second time, I didn't think my calf cramping could get worse. But by then we were already at mile 10, and I had rationalized almost being done with the race. There was still one man behind us on the course, and as long as we kept moving, we could keep it that way.

On the return trip across the bridge, I was so dizzy, I frequently had to grab the railings to keep from falling over. The last place runner passed us on the down hill, and Brina (frustrated to find that we were the last 3 finishers) started to pick up her pace. I love Brina and do not resent her one bit for doing this, but I was freaked out to see her speeding up while I just kept slowing down and having more and more problems.

In the last mile, We had a police officer fall in behind us with his cruiser and give us an escort. Brina waited for us at the 13 mile mark so that we could do the final tenth of a mile together. The home stretch of the race was through a side street lined with bars and restaurants. The plan was for us to jog that home stretch and finish as strong as possible, but my body had a different idea. People in the bars were cheering for us, jumping up and down because we were the final finishers and I think that Brina and Juanita were somewhat embarrassed. I was embarrassed for them too. But I wanted to finish as strong as possible.

And I did. At least until I was about 5 feet from the finish line when my cramping calves finally called it quits. And just like this girl who hit a wall at her high school track championships (go to 1:31), I felt my calf muscles give out. I was so close that if I could have gotten just a little spring in my step I might have been able to throw myself over the finish line, but I didn't have the energy. Thankfully Juanita and Brina were there to catch me as I went down. It was like slow motion, and I saw finish line officials stepping over the finish line to help grab me, and medics reaching for me. The crowd was cheering loudly. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide... then pass out.

As soon as I was over the finish line, I was whisked into a tent and given some fruit and water and shade. I was embarrassed and exhausted and out of breath and cramping and nauseous and dizzy and a hot ball of mess.

I was ok with being the last finisher in this race and had joked with Juanita about who would take it, but in the end, I didn't have much of a choice. She was behind me holding me up as she handed me off to medical, causing her to finish last in the race. I didn't want that for her. She deserved better than that.

In the end though, last or second to last doesn't much matter.

We finished. And for me, that was all that mattered (particularly when I had been so sure we wouldn't finish in the first place).

Looking back, I realize that sometimes finishing strong means only comparing yourself to what you yourself are capable of. Did I finish strong by my normal standards? Absolutely not. Did I do the best I could with what I had to finish as strong as possible? I can answer that with a resounding yes.

HFs Brina, Me, Juanita and Seth at the finish

As a side note, I continued to suffer from the shortness or breath, cramping, nausea, heart palpitations, and dizziness for an additional 36 hours and I *did* go to the doctor the following Monday. I am fine now but now know the importance of eating right and properly hydrating as an ongoing issue, particularly when being a distance runner.

My stats on this race were awful, but for the sake of documenting, here they are:

Gun: 3:51:39
Chip: 3:51:12
Pace: 17:38
Sex: 228/229
OA: 382/383
Cat: 35/35

Walt Disney World Half - January 12, 2012

I thought about titling this post "Amy's First Half Marathon."

And then thought that using "Amy put biofreeze where?!?!?!" as a title may be more apropos.

But regardless of what I've titled this post, it will be both about my first half marathon experience, and how my brain doesn't seem to want to work after running for (literally) hours on end.

Grab some popcorn, this is going to be a long entry...

The months leading up to Disney's half marathon had gone fairly uneventfully. I had followed the Galloway training plan,  and much to my surprise, it wasn't as grueling as I had thought it would be.

In November-ish, I ran a 9 mile training run and it went well for the first 8 miles but my energy petered out after that, leaving me thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. During my 11 mile training run, the first 9 miles were relatively easy, but the last 2 miles left me completely spent, thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. In my 12.5 mile training run, the first 11 went fairly well, but I had to push myself so hard to just finish the last 1.5 miles that I was left thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. Do we see a pattern here?

During my 14 mile training run on Christmas Eve morning, I was able to reach 13 miles fairly easily but then (trying to force myself into overdrive) I pulled a groin muscle and hobbled the last mile home. Had this been the actual half marathon, that last 0.1 woulda got me.

But thankfully It was only a training run, and I had a couple of weeks of taper before my half marathon where I could let my body rest and relax (rest and relax being subjective here as I somehow managed to perforate both eardrums, then rupture one of them, then get incredibly congested with a headcold, leaving me well outside of the definition of being in tip-top condition, but I digress).

Disney Marathon Weekend was a weekend long trip, despite the fact that we were only running the half marathon on Saturday. The week leading up to leaving, when my balance wasn't off and I could spend more than 2 minutes vertical, I packed and allowed myself to get excited. On Thursday night, before heading to bed, I read my new issue of Runner's World Magazine, and was excited to read a story written by veteran runner Marc Parent about his first half marathon experience ("Oh my God- I just ran a half-marathon"). I would recommend this article to anyone about to run their first half marathon, and took pride in the fact that I was about to undertake a feat that many veteran runners have yet to do. *That* was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Friday before the half marathon, Ray and I drove with our friends Kevin and David to Orlando where we checked into the All Star Sports Resort and then went to the ESPN Wide World of Sports to pick up our packets. Having worked the expo before, I knew it would be crowded, but I was still really intimidated by the sheer volume of people there. 

Then we went off to Epcot, had an early dinner and it was back to the hotel and to our room by 8pm for a good nights rest. Only I was like that little kid in the Disney commercial who was too excited to sleep. I took some sleep aid, and some DM strength cold medication, but still, I tossed and turned. 

Before I knew it, our alarm was going off at 3:00 am. Yikes. It wasn't too long ago when I used to go to bed at 3am (or frequently later), and now here I was getting up and lacing some shoes to go run at 3am?!?!?

Well that's not true. We had to wake up at 3:00 am and have our laces tied by about 3:20 to be out the door and on the shuttle bus over to Epcot at 3:30 for the 5:30 gun that started the race. Ray and I both started in corral G, so we didn't actually start till just after 6:00 am, but that didn't actually change the time we had to be at the corrals. Let's just say it was Zero dark 30 by the time we got to the bag check area and they opened it up so everyone could then walk the 15 minutes to the start line. To wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Me and Ray before the race

And then it was finally time for our wave to go. And I was anxious. And jittery. And nauseous. And nervous. And full of self doubt. And I really had to pee. But there was no time. Before I could figure out where the nearest port-o-potty was, it was time for our wave to go. And we ran. Ray and I had an agreement that (because he runs a much faster pace than me) he would run at his own pace and I would stay behind, running my own race. But the excitement of the crowd got to me, and I started off WAY faster than I had intended. Normally, where Ray would pull away from me after the first 0.1 mile, I stayed right on his shoes until I could see the first mile marker. Veteran runners will tell you to be careful about the crowd pumping you up too much and starting too fast. But I didn't think that would happen to me. Little did I know, right?

So I started too fast. I ran my first 3 miles at about 14:50 per mile (which to me is WAY too fast, but please don't be rude about how this is still slower than your pet snail), and my energy was burning out fast. It was also really hot. I also hadnt slept much the night before. I was also alone, running with a crowd that was less-than friendly. 

I guess I figured because Disney bills itself as the happiest place on earth, that the 35,000 people who were running alongside me might also have been happy as well. Or at least friendly. I had people bump into me and jostle me with complete disregard, I had multiple groups of walkers refuse to give right of way even though I was going faster than they were, I had groups force me off the road, I heard people just be outright nasty to one another. 

Running isn't a pretty sport, but one thing I had hoped to really feel was that sense of camaraderie that runners always talk about during races. I got very little of that, so little in fact that if I was gauging all half marathon experiences by this one, I probably never would have run another half marathon at all (but I'm getting ahead of myself in the story). The reality of my thought process at the time was that I was in the middle of a huge crowd that never seemed to spread out much, and I felt completely and utterly alone.

People run Disney for any number of reasons. And everyone has a different expectation of what this experience is like. For me, while I knew that the majority of the race is actually outside of the parks with only about a mile through Magic Kingdom and about another half mile at the end through Epcot, I guess it never really occurred to me that the majority of this race would be on the really boring access roads with little scenery to occupy my time. Runners don't even reach Magic Kingdom until around mile 6, so that whole first half of the race is somewhat boring visually.

But then all at once, you round a corner and you are running down mainstreet Magic Kingdom toward Cinderella's Castle. And suddenly the race meets all of your expectations. I was starting to have some nagging achiness in the groin muscle I had pulled the day before Christmas, but how can you not get excited when you are suddenly running through the happiest place on earth with thousands of excited people cheering you on?

Then I rounded the corner into Tomorrow Land and the crowd seemed to spread out a little, but then (without spectators cheering me on), I was really hating the world. I hated my music selection, I hated my shoes. I hated Ray for leaving me behind. I hated my groin pain. I hated my friend Shannon for getting me motivated with this running thing in the first place. And thinking of a video that I had watched the week before about what a guy thought about during his marathons, I hated musicians Carlos Santana & Rob Thomas. And I hadn't even hit 7 miles yet! 

(edited to clarify that I didn't really hate Ray, Shannon, Carlos Santana or Rob Thomas. I really love all of them, but I was in a bad place and lashing out with my anger. I'm sorry to you all.)

After running through Cinderellas castle and out a back exit of Magic Kingdom, we were on access roads again. It was then that I learned that without visual stimulation, I got very bored. Whereas, normally on a training run, I could put my earphones in and go off into la-la land and work out any difficulties that I might be having in my personal life, at Disney I was completely unable to do this. Because I had to constantly be on the lookout for someone running me off the road of elbowing me, I never got to that place deep inside myself. And because I never got there, I was beginning to obsess about the things that were wrong. About how awful I felt. About that increasing groin pain. About how I was quickly losing my pace and falling further and further behind.

And then my mind stopped working altogether. My groin hurt really badly, and desperately wanting it to stop, my (broken)mind decided that it was a muscle pull just like other muscle pulls, and could be treated as such. So passing a medical tent around mile marker 8, I put my right hand out and took a couple of pumps of biofreeze. Without even questioning it, I pulled my pants open with my left hand and jammed my right hand down my pants to apply the gel to the inside crease of my right leg. I knew there was menthol in biofreeze, but I was careful to not get it anywhere near my panties or my nether bits.

Look at all those people still behind me!

Fat chance! The first few minutes after I applied the biofreeze, I felt fairly good. But it was all downhill from there. It didn't take long for the moisture in my clothing to pick up the menthol in the biofreeze and deposit it directly where I really didn't want it. For the next 4-5 miles, my lady bits were completely on fire. I was able to smile for the cameras and take joy in the fact that there were still thousands of people behind me when I glanced over my shoulder at the top of a ramp, but I started having visions of crossing the finishline and pouring water and baking soda down my pants. At mile 9, I quit my running intervals and chose to walk straight through.

And just like that, I was entering into Epcot parking lot and into the last 1.1 miles of the race. I was wiped. It took everything out of me. I was dehydrated. And exhausted. My groin hurt. My underwear felt as if I had crushed habanero peppers into it. I was passed in the last mile by an elderly speedwalker using a tri-wheeled walker (true story). But I finished.

I did it!

I was slower than I had anticipated. But I finished.

Then I went to the medical tend, poured water down my pants and had my groin area packed with ice.

Note to self: Biofreeze doesn't belong ANYWHERE near there.


Chip time - 3:35:28
Pace - 16:14 per mile
5K - 46:12
10K - 1:36:06
15K - 2:30.15
OA - 21774 / 43126
Div - 12145 / 13128